Need
by alicecullenlvr
Summary: "I've seen it before. That look. That terrible Need. It is a fierce and jealous love." Danger. Injury. Death. Small chance of success. All of the horrible outcomes of their quest were thoroughly outlined. All but one. Success. No one talked about the danger that lay inside the mountain, once Smaug was gone. And now, they're all a slave to it. All but one dwarf, elf, and hobbit.


_Author's Note: This is a brief oneshot, with little backstory behind it. Why an elf is in Erebor, I don't know. I wouldn't mind writing a backstory, should I come up with a good one, so let me know if you'd like to see this fleshed out more._

Erebor was cold. Not in its temperature; despite the winter season dawning around them, deep inside the mountain it was actually quite warm. No, it was more than that. When Kíli and Fíli were young, and they would sit at Thorin's knee and listen to stories of their home, they imagined a place that was lively and inviting, full of dwarves and their families, living and thriving in a way that they could not in the Blue Mountains. Maybe it was the lack of people here. Maybe this place would not fit those visions until it was once again a bustling home for their kin. There was no way to know. But until then, it was just cold. It was empty and quiet, and every time someone made a sound, it echoed maddeningly off the walls. The stench of dragon was everywhere, and it was stifling. The dark shadows seemed ominous, and for some reason, Kíli could not bring himself to venture into any of the deeper reaches of the mountain.

Which was why he wandered near the surface, eyes drawn to the door through which they had arrived, rather than looking back at the gleaming gold that so entranced the rest of the company. They weren't offered many breaks from looking for the Arkenstone, but when they did get them, Kíli preferred to spend his as far from the gold as he could. He didn't like it. The look of it, the smell of it...most of all he hated what it was doing to his friends. Everyone seemed entranced by it. Not as much as Thorin was, but they definitely had gotten caught up in it, and it made Kíli sick to his stomach to see it. For some reason he did not see what they saw, and for the most part, he was grateful for that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a flash of color to his left. His gaze was drawn over, to find a lone elf sitting on the edge of the stone ledge. And her...he was the only one appreciative of her presence. Fíli was grateful that she had saved his brother's life, of that he had no doubt, but he was no happier to have her so near the mountain, let alone inside of it, any more than any of the other dwarves. Bilbo seemed to tolerate her presence well enough, although he didn't seem to know what to do with himself around her. Kíli knew that without her, he'd be feeling much more alone, but he worried that her presence would be short-lived.

He walked over slowly, knowing that she would hear him no matter how quiet he tried to be. Indeed she did not even turn around before greeting him. "Hello, Kíli."

He offered nothing in return as he came to a stop behind her. "How is that leg?" she inquired.

He shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

"Fine?"

"Not much pain. Barely limping. I daresay, I shall survive."

"Well that is a relief." It almost sounded like she might be smiling.

"Yes, thanks to you." He lowered himself down next to her, letting his legs dangle off the edge as she did. He pretended not to notice how many inches higher his dangled compared to hers. He felt her eyes on him, but he did not look at her yet. The ledge they sat on overlooked the main room, but from so high up that the individual pieces of gold and gems could not be made out. They glittered in the firelight, bouncing a reflection off of the stone. It would have been entrancing, if it did also serve as a reminder of how far away his companions were from him. Not even Fíli was quite himself.

"What?"

"Hm?" Kíli finally turned his head to look at her. His breathing stuttered as it always did when he looked at her. She, as always, didn't seem to notice. He was glad for that; it was embarrassing, what she did to him without even trying.

"You said, 'I don't know what to do'."

"Oh. Did I?"

"Yes. What don't you know what to do about?"

"Oh, it's just..." He sighed. He wanted to tell her, but he wasn't even sure what to say. And what would she think of him? One of the reasons elves detested dwarves so much was because of their affinity for gold. Until recently, Kíli would have said that a love of gold was a stupid reason on which to judge an entire species.

But she assuaged that fear, again without trying. "You can tell me. I promise, I have no desire to judge you." When he was still silent she ventured a guess. "You're scared."

"Yes. Not for me, though." She said nothing, letting him form the words in his own time. "I'm worried about the company. All of them. Even Fíli. I've never seen any of them like this. Thorin is...I don't even feel like I know him. The very sight of him gives me chills." He sighed again. "I feel like...I'm losing them. Little by little they slip further and further away from me, and I do not know how to stop it. Is that crazy?"

"No," she responded immediately. She had turned to face him, bracing her lean torso against the pillar behind her. He mimicked her, leaning against his own pillar. Her concerned gaze drew him in, making him forget about the glittering below. She took a deep breath. "Dragon sickness." Her voice was so soft he barely heard her. It was only the echoing stone that brought her words to his ears.

"I never thought I would see it. I've heard of it, of course, but only in passing. We don't speak of it. I never realized how it would look. So ugly and cold and frightening. But what is truly frightening is to see it in the eyes of those I care about. Even Fíli. He's my best friend, but I look at him, and in his eyes, I see someone else. He's there, I know he is, but when he speaks, he speaks with the voice of someone else. The words of someone else. I don't..." He felt his voice crack, and stopped. Speaking of this with her was hard enough. He didn't want to break down in tears, too. He feared once he started that he would not be able to stop.

"But you do not feel it?" Tauriel asked slowly, her voice quiet and cautious.

Kíli shook his head slowly. "No."

"Why is that, do you think?"

He shook his head again, more vigorously. "I do not know." Even though one look at her green eyes and copper hair, shining in the light, called him out as a liar.

She suspected he was lying, he was not good with subtlety, but she chose not to mention the bluff.

Before silence could fall, Kíli tried to alter the course of the conversation. "I'm worried about Fíli the most. He is not as bad as Thorin, and for that I am grateful. But still... I have never seen him this way and it frightens me!"

Even though their voices were hushed, the sound still echoed in the vast cavern. It took her a minute of searching to find the right words. Or what she hoped were the right words. "It may still pass. He may come through it?"

"How?" Kíli demanded, more harshly than he intended. "Have you ever known anyone to come out of it? This is dragon sickness, not some commonplace obsession!"

"No, you're right. I'm sorry."

Kíli sighed. His head drooped, falling into his hands. "No, I'm sorry. You're just trying to comfort me; I should not turn you away so quickly. I did not mean to speak so."

Tauriel reached over, grasping his hands and pulling them slowly away. He looked at her with surprise, unused to her initiating any touch between them. "You're scared. And understandably so. Your brother is the most precious thing to you, and you fear you've lost him. Not to mention your uncle and your friends. I do not blame you for being upset. I did not take it personally."

Kíli's eyes fixed on where her hand still grasped his, caught in the space between them. "Not quite the _most_ precious..." His words were mumbled, almost as if he hadn't meant to speak them aloud. Tauriel wasn't sure if she should say anything, or if it was better to pull her hand back. She decided to reclaim her hand, gently.

When his eyes finally met hers again, they were dark with an intensity that took her breath away. "Thank you. For...being here. It helps. To have you to talk to."

"You have Bilbo," she pointed out. That wasn't what she'd intended to say, but it made him smile.

"Yes, I suppose I do. 'Tis not quite the same, though."

OoO

"Tauriel!" He sounded more desperate every time he called her name, but he could not help himself. The whispering in his head could not go on another moment. Just as he rounded into another room, he almost ran right into his intended target, her fast reflexes being the only thing that avoided the collision.

And that was it. Her hands on his shoulders, warm and familiar, her green eyes looking down at him, though they were filled with worry, and the voice quieted. Peace stole over him, and he very nearly shook from the force of his relief.

"Kíli? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he rasped.

"Nothing? That didn't sound like nothing," she replied, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I-" he started. "It's, well, nothing _now_." He took a deep breath, his first in what felt like hours. "I-I couldn't find you. I thought you'd left," he whispered.

Her gaze softened. "I have not left. Nor do I intend to, and certainly not without telling you first."

"Do not leave. Please. I could not bear it." Against his will, his eyes filled with tears. Tauriel's expression became concerned all over again. She dropped to her knees, bringing her face close to his, her hands still resting on his shoulders. "It's you, you know," he let out on a ragged breath. Her brow furrowed slightly. "The reason I'm not sick like everyone else. It's you. You're what keeps me sane."

"Kíli-" she started, but he didn't let her get the protest out. For surely that was what she meant to say.

"I hear it. In my head, sometimes. I can hear the gold whispering to me. I know that sounds crazy," he added hurriedly. "And maybe it is. But it is a madness that cannot take hold. Because when I look at you, it goes quiet. It cannot hold me." His hand rose, gently cupping her jaw and cheek. "How can it? When you are more beautiful to me than any jewel in this mountain could ever be?"

Tauriel's breath visibly caught. She was unprepared for this emotional outpouring. Her eyes dropped, even as her heart raced in her chest. Here she was supposed to be comforting him, and she couldn't even look at him. Kíli allowed her a moment, for which she was grateful. It was short-lived, though. "Amralìmè." The whispered word reached her like a caress, slipping inside her and burying itself in her heart.

She met his tear-filed eyes, responded, "I do not know what that means."

"I think you do." A smile lit up his face, a joyous smile she hadn't seen in far too long. The world around her blurred, leaving her feeling as if she stood on the edge of a precipice. The problem was, she did not know where to step to find solid ground again. His hand still rested on her cheek, and his thumb began sliding back and forth, stroking her skin softly. With every pass she felt herself fall further.

"I cannot," she said, her voice barely audible. Maybe he would not hear the note of panic in it. Maybe he would not see that she was trying to save herself.

"Why?" he pressed. He stepped forward, closing most of the already small distance between them. His body brushed hers, making her flood with warmth. Kíli was having a hard time controlling himself this close to her, but he held back, hoping she could not see how much he wanted her. "I would not push you," he said haltingly, "I will not ask for more than you can give. But please, tell me why."

Tauriel focused her eyes on his forehead, knowing if she met his warm gaze, this would become so much harder. Cowardice, it felt like, though in spite of that, she still couldn't bring herself to look at him fully. Her hands had slid from his shoulders to his chest, braced so that she could have easily pushed him away. She already knew she would not, however. Underneath her palm she could feel his heart beating, its speed matching that of her own. It felt strong, powerful, and for once she wanted to curl up in someone else. She didn't want to be the strong one here. "We cannot." She forced herself to gather her thoughts, to form some coherency. "Surely you see this. What we want doesn't matter."

"I see nothing of the sort," he objected. "I'm not saying it will be easy. But it will be worth it. And I know that if we do this, we do it together. We're stronger together."

She was already shaking her head. "Even if your people could ever accept me, they would not do so like this. Especially not with a prince of Erebor."

He grimaced. "Do not say my title so. I am not a prince in your presence any more than I was in your dungeons in Mirkwood. And as I am not next in line for the throne, it matters little."

"I cannot brush it off so easily! The throne may not belong to you, but your kin will still look to you for direction, for leadership. And they will not find it, not with me by your side." She would have gotten up to leave then, if she had not made the mistake of looking into his eyes. His eyes, swimming with sadness, fear, determination, and what looked a lot like...love. As if she even knew what that looked like. It made her feel ridiculous to think so, but it did not matter now. She was caught up, unable to think ahead any longer.

"You are my light in the dark, Tauriel." Her name rolling off his tongue made her mind conjure images of dim lighting, questing hands, and things that both made her blush and long for more.

She spoke with difficulty, her head still sluggish, as if she were fighting off a spell. "I cannot...love you...to help you keep your sanity." Kíli's eyes shuttered, even as his tears threatened to spill over. He nodded once, in acquiescence, before pulling away. Her hands were quick to grasp his tunic, preventing him from moving. Her words came rapidly now, spilling out of her mouth faster than she could consider what she wanted to say. "I cannot love you to keep you sane, but I can love you because you make me feel more than anyone I've known ever could. I can love you because you're _worth it._ Because I can't seem to help it, no matter how hard I try!"

Kíli's dark eyes had taken on light again, and they were bathed in a new sheen of tears. He seemed to still be absorbing her words, deciphering their meaning, as if she had spoken a foreign language. His brain caught enough to guess, though. And he didn't hesitate to pull her in for a bruising kiss, which she returned with a smile. She smiled so much it made her face ache, and then so was he, and it made kissing very difficult. Which made them both laugh, the sound high and giddy as it bounced off the stone around them.

When they'd finally sobered again, Kíli leaned his forehead against hers. "This is between us, then?"

"Yes." She pulled back just enough to give him a questioning look. "You truly think I am the reason you are unaffected?"

"I know it is. I've known for awhile now." He stroked her cheek again. "I can feel the pull of the gold, it's true. But for when I'm with you. Tauriel...I know it makes you uncomfortable to say so, but when I look at you, I truly feel as if I have never seen anything more beautiful. Human, elf, dwarf...anything! Your eyes are more enchanting than the most perfect emerald. Your hair is fire, especially in the sunlight, and it captivates me." He ran his hand through her tresses, and she let him, though she was unused to having someone touch her so freely. "Your grace is more beautiful than any flowing river of gold could ever hope to achieve. And your smile...it is radiant. It is beauty and sunlight and peace and magic. I would do anything to be graced with that smile. It shines brighter than any jewel. The Arkenstone could be flung in my face, and still I would not see it!"

Tauriel gave him one of those smiles, although it was small and hesitant. Trying to hide her flushed cheeks she ducked her head, but he immediately raised it back up, unwilling to let her hide. "Even your embarrassment is beautiful."

"I think you see me through blurry eyes, Master Dwarf," she admonished.

Kíli grinned. "Possibly. Or maybe I see you exactly the way you should be seen. Maybe I see what others have overlooked."

She tried to smile at him, but she could feel it wavering. Kíli didn't miss it, of course. "What's wrong?"

She laughed, but not from humor. "What's wrong? Only just about...everything! The rest of your company is afflicted with dragon sickness. We're sneaking around in some forgotten rooms deep in the mountain so your kin do not see us. Your uncle risks war for refusing to share the gold hidden in this place. I am unwelcome here, but also amongst my own people. Only Bilbo and you and I can see sense. I do not know what will happen, and..." She trailed off. Could she tell him? What would he think of her if she did?

Kíli was quiet, and he didn't prompt her, or seem at all like he might be losing patience. Several long seconds passed, and then, "I'm scared." Her head ducked down again, her anxiety rising. "I don't know what will happen, and that scares me. I am not accustomed to being so unsure." She would have said more, had she not bit her tongue to keep herself from spewing out anything else.

He waited, making sure she'd said all she needed to say. Then he lifted her head once more, so gently, until she was looking again into his eyes. His warm, soft eyes, free of judgment or pity. "Don't worry about it." When her mouth opened to respond he continued quickly, "No, don't worry about it. Not tonight. Let tonight be for us. Let it be just us. We can't know what happens next, and I want to savor every moment with you. That is the one thing we can control," he whispered.

She didn't object when he leaned in to kiss her once more. This time they weren't smiling, and this kiss was much deeper. His hands gripped her waist, his fingers flexing periodically, as if he were trying to restrain them. Her own hands still gripped his tunic, her grip tight enough to make her fingers ache. She wasn't sure if it was desperation or sheer need that made her hold so tightly, but either way, he wouldn't be going anywhere. Their bodies had gravitated to leaving no space between them, and Tauriel found that the lack of room was suddenly quite...freeing. Kíli already had a way of making her feel more comfortable than even her own kin did, which was ironic when the difference in their species was taken into account. It never mattered, though. Looking down on him never seemed unnatural, and the difference in his speech and mannerisms and movement only fascinated her. Now, being so intimate with him when she was accustomed to the distance and aloof demeanor that came with being an elf, she would have expected to be slowing Kíli down, as she adjusted to the change in their relationship. Yet, she was the one pulling _him_ closer. She was the one moaning when he swiped her tongue with his own for the first time. At this rate, she'd be the first one to give up on control altogether.

Which was why she pulled away from him, as difficult as that was, separating their mouths for the first time in... Well, long enough to have completely ruined their chances of breathing. Not that that erased the urge to kiss him again. An urge he clearly shared, as, despite his labored breaths, he almost immediately attached his lips to her neck. She wasn't able to stop herself from burying her hands in his hair, pulling him closer and inadvertently encouraging his actions. This wasn't why she'd stopped their kissing. Or was it? It was hard to think when he was doing _that_ to her. And when she so badly wanted to him to continue doing anything that would send such delightful little shivers down her spine.

"Kíli," she finally managed, although it came out sounding more like a moan than like his name. Naturally his attention didn't waver. "Kíli," she tried again, this time more firmly, and only through sheer force of will.

"What?" he mumbled into her skin.

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?" he growled insolently.

At that she grabbed a fistful of the hair her hands were entangled in, yanking his head away. "Why not? Because anyone could walk in on this!"

"That is highly unlikely. I had a hard enough time finding you, and I was looking. Everyone else seems content for now to ignore you."

Tauriel rolled her eyes, and action she could honestly say she'd never done before. "Highly unlikely or not... And do not forget, the floor is stone. This is hardly comfortable." Her free hand gestured to where she kneeled.

"We can move," Kíli offered helpfully.

The hand in his hair tightened. "Oh? And what about-"

"What about what, Tauriel? How improper this is? To be honest, I don't give a rat's arse! We're not exactly conventional, anyway! Nor are these conventional conditions! You said it yourself, we don't know what will happen tomorrow." With every word his voice grew deeper and more persuasive. "But we have tonight. It's up to us what we do with it."

Her eyes searched his. Did it matter? Why was she worried about how fast they were moving when tomorrow they could be ensconced in war? They would eventually have to deal with hate and ridicule and a lack of understanding, were they both to survive whatever it was that did come. But tonight, in this dark, forgotten room, there was no one to judge them. No danger to separate them. No one other than Tauriel to say that they couldn't do whatever they wanted.

Without conscious thought, she began pushing his head back to hers, the fist in his hair no longer a way to hold him back. Their lips brushed ever so slightly, but neither of them moved to initiate anything more. His breath puffing against her lips, Kíli whispered, "What do you want, Tauriel?"

"I want...you." Three words said all she needed to say, and then there was no more hesitation.

OoO

Tauriel had never before realized just how much noise a mountain could make. Every room was different, but when she stopped to listen, there was as much to hear as the forest she loved so much had to offer. The quiet drip of water from where moisture had gathered in the stone. The whisper of a breeze from some forgotten hole in the wall. The ticking of insect feet on the hard floor and walls. The brush of fur on stone from the rats that scrounged in the dark corners.

There was more to be heard in this near-empty mountain than she would have guessed. But her favorite sound was the strong, steady heartbeat under her ear. She decided very quickly that that was one sound of which she would never tire. Her fingers stroked idly through dark chest hair, softer on her skin than she would have expected. The warm hand on her back followed similar motions, memorizing the length of her torso as it was exposed to his current reach. They'd laid quietly for what felt like both hours and minutes, all at the same time. They didn't speak, just touched and stroked and brushed, with lips and hands, soaking up each other's presence.

Her lips found his chest once again, cold without his warmth on them. She was reticent to break their peaceful silence, but she'd put it off too many times already. "Kíli."

"Tauriel," came the equally short reply. She could hear the smile in his voice. He always seemed to be smiling, although it had been to a noticeably lesser degree as of late.

She raised herself up so she could see his face. Despite the minimal distance the action put between them, she still felt an immediate chill overtake her. It took a good deal of willpower not to just sick back down into his arms. Kíli didn't look any more pleased than she felt at the movement, although there was a serenity to his face that made her pause. Finally she said, "We should get dressed. The sun will rise soon."

"Yes." He made no move to get up.

"Kíli," she said in exasperation. He just grinned at her, playful and defiant at the same time. Her head dropped to hide the answering smile that came over her face without permission. She could no longer resist him anyway, and buried her face into his warm neck. He didn't hesitate to pull her closer, wrapping her up so tightly she suspected he was trying to prevent her moving again. His embrace felt so good, though, and as her body rewarmed to his, she found herself losing her desire to move. The possibility of being caught faded away, not for the first time, and for a brief moment, the call to be at the wall by dawn didn't seem so important.

"We really need to go."

"I know," he answered, equally lacking in conviction. "I just..."

"What?"

"I just wish we had more time." The words floated on a whisper, barely audible. "I want to talk to you, really talk to you. For hours. I want to hold you without a deadline looming over our heads. I want to make love to you without fear that it will be the last time."

This time pulling away to look at his face wasn't as hard, although she did it in such a way that she didn't really have to go anywhere. Her hand rested on his jaw, her thumb gently stroking his cheek, no longer straining under the force of his smile. "I know," she said simply, after a long moment. "And if we could have that, I would find some way to make it happen. But-"

He put two fingers against her lips. "No. No 'buts'. I don't even want to hear it. That won't make me feel any better."

His dark eyes left hers, but not before she saw the fear and sadness and worry filling them. She didn't force him to look at her, but she did answer him. "I'm not going to placate you. I'm not going to tell you that this will all work out. That we'll both survive, and we'll have plenty of time after to sort things out. War offers no such guarantees." Now she did guide his gaze back to hers, needing to see him, even if the expression there broke her heart.

"Aren't you scared?" Kíli asked, his voice breaking.

"Yes. Terrified. I thought loving you scared me. But the thought of losing you, the mere possibility makes me want to run and hide. I worry that this is something that I do not have in me to face. Even though I know I must."

"So must we both. I always thought, going into battle, that I would be scared for my life. Instead, I find my mind occupied by fear for others."

"That is to be expected. Many you care about will be in danger, and you have no way of knowing who you will see again."

"And you?" His eyes searched hers, his voice filled with earnestness.

Tauriel hesitated before answering. "My mind is filled with thoughts of you, mostly. I-I have learned how to separate my fears, to set them aside so that I can focus when I need to, without feeling overwhelmed. Elves do not shun strong emotions, merely the act of letting them control us. But since meeting you, I find I feel more out of control than I ever thought possible. I am ruled by emotion, and I worry that it clouds my judgment."

Kíli smiled slowly, a hint of mocking it it. She knew it wasn't directed at her, but born from a taught resentment of her species. "Yes, welcome to the land of the living, where we are imperfect beings unable to control ourselves so immaculately."

She smiled back, if sadly.

"Come. You're right, we should go. I fear if we tarry here any longer, we may never leave." Tauriel didn't argue, and they both rose. They dressed slowly, handing each other pieces of clothing, sometimes stealing one another's things and refusing to return them. Their movements were interspersed with frequent kisses, and even some playful, but lingering, touches. Therefore, getting dressed took a good deal longer than it should have.

Just as they made to leave, Tauriel snagged Kíli's sleeve, making him stop and look at her inquisitively. She hesitated, hoping to get her thoughts in order. "I am scared for what today holds. But I'm also filled with a contentment and happiness I did not know was possible. I have never known in my whole life, the joy and pleasure that you have shown me in less than a month. If this is what it is to love, then it is worth every moment."

Kíli's only answer was to pull her down for a long, deep kiss that said more than his words ever would.


End file.
